Red, white, blue, and gold
by Tony E.Stark
Summary: Tony had looked up to Captain America since he was little, but that quickly changed when he actually met the man. Tony hates Steve for his self-righteous attitude and Steve dislikes Tony's selfish egotistical ways. Both think the other has to be taken down a notch, but after an argument taken too far, will they learn to like or even love one another? R&R/Smut/StevexTony/after NY
1. Upset, Tony is upset

**_K, This is my first attempt at a stony but for my own comfort im naming them Stove, so this is my first attempt at a stove fan fiction, reviewing would be great so I know if I messed up, or if I need to work on anything._**

**_And I will be updating chapters so if no new ones are posted im working on the ones that already were._**

**_Here's a warning, if you hate homophobic people, im going to have some homophobic minor characters, and Steve is going to be a bit homophobic himself. _**

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Parts of red and gold armor, circuit boards, screwdrivers, and odd looking small missiles were scattered across a desk; In the middle of the high-tech madness sat Tony Stark; his hands occupied with parts of a new prototype, as "You shook me all night long" By AC/DC, blared throughout the lab at a deafening level.

Once all parts had been properly placed and the casing was on, coffee brown eyes skilfully regarded the indestructible specimen of technology. A bottom lip was gently pinched in-between blunt white teeth as his hands began taking apart the phone to correct any faults- which he knew there were none, but the genius wanted-_ needed_, to keep his mind busy right now.

On the outside, Stark seemed enveloped in his work as usual, but on the inside it was a different story.

As usual.

If you didn't know him besides his arrogant billionaire playboy act, and what you read in the paper on his usual scandalous stints, all you would see is a genius at work― _ok that was partially true, he really **was** working hard on something for stark-tech._

Knowing _of_ him was far different from actually _knowing_ Tony. The team, Rhodey, and Pepper, (Thor excluded because he was barely around and even if he was, he wasn't exactly great with human behavior to know Tony's moods) knew him well, and if you did, you could tell without a doubt, that right now, Tony Stark was pissed, and it'd be for your own safety to stay as far away as possible. Seriously, not even Natasha dared to fuck with him when he got like this.

So instead of getting drunk or breaking shit, Tony chose to lock himself in his lab, all passcodes revoked without any communication for about six hours; unless you count JARVIS and an occasional "hey, buddy" to the dark grey tabby who accompanied him in the lab.

Tony adopted the stray after finding it hiding in a pile of rubble from Loki's aftermath. He named him 'Cap'- and it was when he noticed the little ball of fluff loved to play with plastic bottle caps, it had nothing to do with Captain Dickhead.

But, speaking of Captain Dickhead.

Who is the precise cause of Tony's quickly approaching mental breakdown.

And the reason why he sat with his mind on edge; the argument between him and the Captain, replaying in his head like a shitty movie or a really, bad dream.

_"You may look like your father, Stark, but that's as close as you'll ever get. I remember the man he was, and the only words I can think to describe him are honorable, brilliant, caring, and nothing. Like. You. Nothing like the lies you spread about him!" The captain spat coldly. "What would he think, Stark? Hm? Of you? Of this? The fact that you would even go as far as to call yourself a hero, when clearly, you aren't even close?"_

The asshole's rant had continued on from there, but Tony decided not to stick around to hear it. He'd listened to enough about why he wasn't a hero, how his selfishness could have cost the team their lives, how it was all his fault, and how he was a failure. If he wanted to hear any of that shit he would have just built a time machine and went back to when his father was still alive― _and drunk_.

Tony had disobeyed their almighty Captain on an order and caused the run down tenement to collapse while they were fighting a group of HYDRA experiments gone wrong.

And ok, yes, he should have listened when Rogers ordered him not to fire anything in the already, ready to collapse building. But it was _instinct_.

He'd seen one of the- well, what looked like a fucking hunchback nightmare from Notre-dame, sneaking up on the Captain while his back was turned, so Tony reacted― _maybe _doing it with a missile wasn't the best idea, but Jesus Christ, it was on _Instinct._

The building had shook and they barely made it out before the whole thing crumbled into a pile of brick, wood, and dust.

Which resulted in Rogers getting pissy and starting the argument.

And the argument resulted in Tony storming off; generally because he didn't want to hear another word out of the fucking guy's mouth or he would have punched him (most likely breaking his hand and he really didn't need that), but it wasn't the whole reason.

Tony stark didn'tallow anyone to get to him, most people didn't know his father was a sore spot, and even if they did, he never paid much attention to what they said anyway, people talk.

Except when the person talking was Captain America, who knew his father, knew he was a sore spot, and went after it like a wolf for the kill.

A really big red, white and blue wolf.

Who was also an asshole.

In spandex.

•°~°•°~°•°~°•°~°•°~•

He felt guilty, and if Stark thought Steve didn't catch the hurt expression on his face before he ran off, then the playboy was an even bigger idiot than Steve originally thought- or he just didn't care. He figured it was the latter.

After watching him go, it took a few hours to calm down and grasp how cruel he'd been. Tony could get just as vicious― if not worse, but he doesn't like bullies, and he sure as hell won't become one. Even if it's an arrogant playboy he's up against.

Their arguments normally ended in Clint, or fury if he was around, having to force them apart, neither rarely gave in, so it was always someone else who had to stop them before it got physical.

Except this time, Stark gave in― even worse, he _ran_; that would normally count as a win, but Steve crossed a line, one he'd known was there.

Don't take it wrong, he has plenty of self-control. He's always careful of his temper and emotions, especially with having the role of team leader; Tony was just someone who knew how to get to him, he didn't know how, but he needed to make some kind of truce with Stark and stop all of this childishness before it got real ugly.

Steve decided going to his room and thinking up a decent apology was in order. He doesn't like the belligerent jackass, but Tony is still human, and surprisingly, he does get his feelings hurt. So, Steve would be the bigger person and apologize.

That of course, was until he opened the Star-spangled door to his room (Tony thought he was hilarious on that one), and his heart sank.

Cream colored paper with finely typed wording, littered his floor and bed, it even trailed into the bathroom. No one but Stark would pull a stunt like this, he knew he'd hurt the playboy's feelings, but not enough to do this...

This was sick, it made him sick.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, vision cloud over with red, his breathing became rapid, and he screamed out a loud "STAAAAAAARK!" before storming off on a mission to mutilate the man responsible for his books being massacred.

Any sympathy he had was replaced with wrathful unadulterated rage.

Damn control, damn human, damn the truce, and damn the consequences of murdering a man― no, a monster, a heartless monster.

"The son of a bitch is going to pay for this." He growled quietly, charging down the hall.

Steve rarely swore. The words never felt right coming out of his mouth, but he doesn't often correct people on their language either, he's aware they have a right to free speech. And, yes, swearing was popular when he was growing up and it came like a second language to men in the military, but he never liked it.

Except back then, he'd never met anyone who had the ability to piss him off like Tony Stark could.

•°~°•°~°•°~°•°~°•°~•

The genius was so lost in thought he didn't hear the British voice of his AI announce that Captain Rogers requested immediate access or the glass would be broken.

But he did hear the shatter of his lab door and the little pings as glass showered the tile.

After sitting up with a startled "What the fuck?!" he watched an absolutely livid Rogers stride through the broken shards and caught a glimpse of Cap as he darted out of the lab. (He didn't blame the cat for running, shit, he wants to do the same right now)

Tony rolled his eyes and shifted in his chair so he could take in the captains appearance, watching as the angry spandex wearing assclown got closer; Rogers was still in uniform, burns and singes littered the red, white, and blue; he had his mask off so the minimal burns on his face were visible, along with his disheveled and slightly singed hair, the split lip that was almost healed thanks to the serum stood out in Tony's mind, it made him want to grin and comment on how the bastard deserved it. He needed his star-spangled ass taken down a few pegs anyway.

To be honest, Tony was done- hell, way past done with Rogers '_I'm better than you because I'm Captain America, first avenger, Golden boy, you're not a hero' _bullshit since New York.

Now, he's been pushed too fucking far.

Roger's was a few feet away from reaching his desk when Tony dropped the small missile that once was a phone and slipped his hand into the gauntlet he'd earlier been adjusting for his suit.

In an instant he was out of the desk chair, hand cocked back, and before Steve could dodge it, the genius landed a solid metal fist into the soldier's jaw. The expression of pain and surprise that flashed across Rogers face made the brunet's lips twist into a cocky smirk.

Until he was tackled to the floor by 200-pounds of seriously pissed off super soldier, yeah, that wasn't cool at all…

Tony found himself laying on his back, a strong hand on the arc reactor in his chest, painfully pinning him down as the captain was knelt between his legs, their crotches uncomfortably- or to be honest _too _comfortably, rubbing against one another. By the look of Rogers glare and re-split lip that blood had begun to trickle from, the captain was too pissed to notice.

Except Steve did notice, he had to repress a moan and rely on his anger to drive the unnatural want away, luckily it worked.

Wide and shocked coffee brown eyes met an icy blue that was clouded over with an anger as unpredictable as a storm on open waters.

Realization hit the billionaire when he attempted to move his arm and found that his wrists had been pinned above his head by a strong hand threatening to break them at any moment.

Fuck.

The growl that came from Steve's blood stained mouth made a small whimper (that he will deny to his death bed, which is probably being made right now) escape the trapped brunet's throat. He'd never seen the soldier ticked off enough to growl at, or attack him for that matter, it was slightly alarming, although he would never admit it― _he was not afraid of this douchebag and he would **never **let him see it even if he was._

There was a whimper, it was faint and probably would have gone unheard by anyone who didn't have enhanced hearing, but Steve caught it.

The smaller man suddenly looked like a trapped animal, afraid and vulnerable, it the blond feel once more, like no less than a bully, but with the reminding image of torn books spread freely across his room, the cooling rage returned with a burning hunger for bloodshed.

Tony looked at the Captain as he seemed to freeze for a moment, the fucked up part was how hot the guy still looked, even after being attacked; his soft, bow shaped pink lips were stained red with a large gash on the bottom, thick crimson liquid contrasted with his overly white, and perfectly straight teeth. Tony could picture the blonds stunning smile, twinkling eyes and― shit, okay, take that back, the fucked up part is where he started thinking Steve was even worth a fucking glace.

Tony didn't even go for guy's― ok _maybe_ he did, but he didn't go for dicks like Rogers, no matter how hot they were, and judging by the era pretty boy here came from, Steve probably didn't have a good thought on gays, lesbians, or anything that wasn't right in his eyes- and just wondering here but, how eyes are even that blu-

"Answer me, Stark!" The Captains demanding snarl cut off any further thoughts and sent a small shiver down his spine. Wait, shit, he hadn't even realized the guy was talking.

So instead of asking what he said and getting an even bigger headache to add to the concussion he probably had from getting slammed into the floor, Tony hooked his legs on the blond's waist and squeezed.

Rogers made a very unmanly squeaking sound- which was not cute. At. All. In fact it was fucking hilarious and Tony will definitely be mocking him for it― _after he's done kicking the captain's ass_.

His distraction worked and the captain had momentarily loosened his grip on Tony's, giving him the opportunity to get a hand free.

"Stark, What in the hel-" He took the hand his gantlet was fitted on and socked Rogers directly in the side of his face, catching the soldier off guard and giving Tony a chance to wiggle from under him.

Success.

Tony had enough time to get to his feet, before a right hook to the stomach sent him crashing back down onto the linoleum.

Or not.

His eyelids slowly cracked open and dazed brown eyes met once more with the icy blue stare of Steve Rogers; his mouth was pressed in a tight line, still stained with red as a small line of blood trickled down his chin; his posture showed off the soldier side, arms crossed with an eerily calm expression that Tony couldn't place.

Tony glared up at the blond from where he sat on the floor, panting to catch his breath after getting hit by Rogers, the brick fucking wall.

There was a slight amount of pain that caused a groan to release from his clenched jaws, but he felt it slip away when nine familiar words rang in his ears.

"Put on your suit, let's go a few rounds." There was a growl in the Captain's tone, but his command was still said with the same eerie calm.

"I said. Put on. Your suit." He commanded again.

And just this once, Tony Stark followed an order.


	2. Shield and Armor collide

_**Alright, Chapter two, I'm going to be adding to this and fixing things so, if you have any opinions just let me know. I'm open to them all as long as you're not a total dick about it, I'm not a dick.. just sometimes sarcastic and overly honest- oh and flirty, but don't be afraid to review.. I always respond. And I promise to play nice.**_

_**Thanks for reading, you guys are great. ㈴1**_

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Tony had suited up in the mark 7 after a few moments of stumbling, Steve watched his every move with a chilling glare never leaving the man's features.

As Tony approached the Captain they began circling one another, the dominance radiating off of them in waves. Tony sure as hell wasn't going to back down and to which he demonstrated by throwing the first punch, only to join his armor with the hard metal of a shield- wait when in the fuck did Spangles have his shied with him? He didn't remember seeing it in the Captains hand..

Tony had little time to ponder the shield, before that exact item was bashed into his helmet and he found himself being thrown into a desk, crushing it under the suits weight.

He pushed himself out of the twisted metal that once was an extremely nice fucking desk and stood, just as the captain advanced on him. Tony raised his hand in time to aim and fire a repulsor. The blow threw Steve back, into a wall, creating a large super-soldier size dent in the concrete.

Steve recovered quickly and before the brunet could smirk at his small victory, he was falling to the ground from a hard hit to the chest by the Captains shield.

He really needed to get his hands on that damn thing and study it, not that the captain would let him, but it was worth a try, maybe after he kicked Rogers star-spangled-ass he could get a look at it..

"Sir to your-" The AI started to warn and was cut off when the Soldier was suddenly on top of him. Tony decided he wasn't going to let this asshole destroy his suit- which he worked really hard on- so he used the arm that wasn't being twisted by said asshole to sock him in the jaw.

The blonde flew off of him and grunted when his back connected with a desk, he wiped his bloody mouth on the back his glove and advanced on stark once more, this time effectively getting his hands on the Iron bastard.

Tony was pinned- again. He didn't even know how in the fuck Steve managed to do it, super soldier or not his suits could withstand the damage of Thor's hammer, so this came as a very and I do me VERY, unpleasant surprise.

So how in the fuck was he pinned down by this assclown and unable to move?

"I _seriously _cannot stand you Stark, I thought things would change after the battle, that maybe you would be decent to me, but you still walk around like you own the damn place, like you're invincible and everyone else is below you. Well let me tell you, you're not and they're not." The soldier spat angrily, his face getting close to the helmet as he sneered at Tony, who glared at him through the metal, knowing Rogers couldn't see it, he did his best to make the Soldier feel it.

"Well, here's a little newsflash, Rogers, I DO OWN THE PLACE!- oh! And may I remind you, how much of a fuck I don't give that you hate me, or did you not get the memo?" Tony retorted with as much hatred and sarcasm he could channel through the suit.

He tried using the repulsor on his chest to blast the blond off of him, but Steve was already a step ahead of the genius and started tearing at the chest piece, going after Tony's arc. Shit.

Did Steve really hate him that much? I mean, he knew the guy hated him, that was a given, but He hadn't done anything to Rogers lately, except for the fight today, but it never went this far. Steve never tried killing him, no matter how much he hated him.

It sent a large wave of hurt to course through him that made his stomach twist and his heart ache- probably because it was about to be literally torn out but still… this wasn't Steve and this sure as hell wasn't right.

Tony quickly grabbed Steve's hands before they reached his arc, his helmet sliding open to reveal Tony's sweat drenched face and pleading eyes, his hair clinging to the wet skin as he screamed "ROGERS, STOP! GOD DAMMIT, STEVE!- LISTEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT-"

"Yes. You. Do. Don't even try your-"

"No, seriously! I don't! I don't know what I did to piss you off, if it was what I said before then-"

"You don't!? Do books mean anything to you, Stark!? Or should I say what used to be MY books!?" He asked, his blue eyes shining with resentment as his lip curled into an angry snarl.

Books? What in the hell is he talking about? I didn't touch any books…

Tony frowned in confusion, the Captain looked marginally taken aback at this. Usually when Tony would pull these kinds of antics he would smirk and make a cocky remark that would at least imply that, yes, he did in fact do it, but by the look on his face, Tony actually didn't know what he was talking about.

Steve sat back still straddling the other man's chest, Tony's hands still gripping his own as his rage was replaced with the same confusion the brunet had, minus the hurt that Tony was choosing to ignore.

Steve felt the immediate need to explain while the other was still rendered speechless from confusion.

"My- my room, I went in my room to think of an apo- just think and my books were torn apart… I thought it was you, because you were upset and you…" Steve spoke quietly, the awareness of his attempt to end Starks life weighing down on him.

Tony, having snapped out of his confused state let the Captain's words sink in.

So he had a right to try and kill Tony over books? Wow, what a fucking douche, but Clint's the bigger asshole. Even though he never messed with Steve, he had messed with Tony, and this situation had a giant arrow sticking out of it with- wait, Clint was gone yesterday and he hadn't even seen him aside from the battle today. In fact, no one was in the tower aside from him and Steve, he knew because Bruce was out meditating or whatever the hell he did for his anger, Clint and Natasha were gone, and its not like Natasha would waste her time on ripping apart Steve's stuff, and well, Thor was in Asgard…

So that can only mean-

"Someone's in the tower." The Captain said as Tony came to the same conclusion.

Steve quickly got off of Tony and a pink tinge that one could only describe as adorable, showed on the blonds cheeks as he looked away to hide it.

Tony almost smiled when he remembered who this was.

"Um, Stark- Tony, I-I just want to say-"

"Save it, Spangles" he said, waving him off as he stood and looked around the lab, anywhere but those eyes that he felt burning into his soul- not that he had one, but it still makes a good metaphor.

"We have bigger problems, somehow- and when I find out who I'm going to compliment them before I kick their ass- breached my security system and got in here. All I need to do is look through the footage that JARVIS has and we'll find out who had enough balls to fuck with my system- oh and we can't forget your precious books." The last part being said with a large amount of bitterness that made Steve look at the ground pitifully, as if he were an actually puppy that had been scolded for chewing on his owners shoes.

Tony regretted the glimpse he took of the captain as soon as he seen the sad pout taking over the blonds handsome features, his slightly slumped shoulders, and those fucking big blue eyes filling with shame. This shit is illegal, the guy's face is considerably swollen, his lip busted for the fifth time, he had burns and matted hair, yet he still looked so damn kissable- and, fuck.

The brunet realized he'd been staring far longer than it was appropriate for a man to look at another man and turned his gaze to one of the blue screens, feeling Steve's eyes on him.

"Are you going to watch me all day or come figure out who in the fuck is in this tower?" he asked cruelly, turning his head to the side a little to make minor eye contact , Steve averted his gaze, a dark blush appearing on his face and came to stand by Tony's side, waiting for the footage to appear.

Tony thought it was a little odd how they could go from wanting to kill each other to working with one another like an actual team. It's true that even though Tony didn't follow orders well, which was only because the Captain (who had a ten foot pole up his ass instead of a stick) didn't like the times when he Tony decided, orders had to be put aside for the safety of someone's life. So sure they still made a good team when they needed to, they knew when to stow their bullshit and work together for the sake of the world, but for anything else the little amount of chivalry they had went out the fuckin' window.

Just as the footage appeared, the two hero's heard a loud crash coming from the back of the lab, causing them both to focus away from the screen. The Captain ran for his shield and Tony slid his faceplate back on.

Looks like whatever they were searching for might have also been looking for them… and just their luck it had found them, but unlucky for whatever the fuck this is, they were ready.

The two hero's shared a quick affirming glance before looking towards the danger that lie in the dark corners of the lab, both standing ready and armed for what was to come.


	3. Fury's thoughts

**_I just thought I would try something and give you fury's point of view on the whole Steve/me(Tony) situation._**

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An agitated man sat at the end of a long table, the lighting in the room was dim, but still enough to illuminate the area in a soft yellow.

He glanced down at the glass in his hands and sighed shaking his head in a disapproving manner. "These motherfuckers need to build a god damn bridge, fuck and get over it... or I swear I'm about to lock both of their stupid asses in a closet, until these assholes admit some shit- or at least make nice, this shit is getting older then me." He said tiredly.

"In all my god. Damn. Years... these motherfuckers.." The annoyed man mumbled and took a sip from the glass of scotch he was holding.

"These two are blind as my right fuckin' eye... Pissin' me right off, I mean who in the hell?- ugh! Its too late for this shit." Fury stood and left his empty glass on the conference table, the ice still melting as it sweat onto the mahogany. He fixed the pink hello kitty boxers he had chosen to wear and made sure to close his leather coat. Fury gave the glass one last glance and went back to his own quarters.

He wanted to get some rest and think about something besides stupid love-struck motherfuckers.


End file.
